A Time in Paradise
by gingaloid
Summary: Pansy Parkinson has always dealt with difficult parents, but what happens when a trip to Hawaii goes terribly wrong? Rated T for mature themes and abuse.
1. Chapter 1  Background

I cannot believe I agreed to this trip as a family to "patch things up." How could I be so stupid as to think that things had changed – that things would be better than they have been? Draco warned me and I told him he was wrong and not to worry because this would be different. Things were supposed to be different and they were supposed to be different. I guess that's what I get for hoping isn't it? Before I get into the nitty-gritty details of this family trip and the happenings that occurred while on it, I feel that I should explain my childhood a bit – explain why this trip was so important to me and why I was so full of hope. I'm Pansy Elizabeth Marie Parkinson. This is my side of the story. The proper one.

I can clearly remember my first two memories of my parents. Even though they are seen through my three-year old eyes, it's as though I just experienced it yesterday. My first memory is of my father.

_I was three years old and it was Christmas morning. I'd been griping about Christmas all week and about how excited I was, because I was positive that I would finally get a pony to make that Malfoy boy jealous of me for once. I went to bed extremely early on Christmas Eve, not objecting when Father said it was lights out for his Pansybeth. Christmas morning, I was awoken by something very large plopping down on my mattress, sending me up into the air and startling me awake. When I landed back on the bed and rubbed my eyes, I looked up to see my father sitting on it, a huge smile on his face._

"_Morning, Pansybeth! It's Christmas, and I'm thinking there is a special gift for you under the tree!" he exclaimed._

_I remember clapping my hands and lunging into his arms, begging him to take me downstairs to see this oh so special gift that promised to be under the tree. He laughed and hugged me, taking me downstairs. I loved when my father laughed at me or with me growing up. Daddy had a special laugh, my laugh. Only when he would laugh at me or laugh with me would his eyes sparkle like hidden gems, glistening with moisture as his wrinkled face folded into a smile. I loved that laugh…even now, thinking back on it, I love that laugh. _

_Upon reaching the foot of the stairs, Daddy set me down and patted my three-year old baby bum, "Alright, Pansybeth! Go get 'em!"_

_I screamed excitedly and ran to the large sitting room occupied by the tree. The room smelled strongly of pine and cinnamon. I looked around excitedly, spinning a few times before setting my eyes on what I desired most. Sure enough, right next to the fireplace was a beautiful white pony with a long white mane and tail, nibbling on the branches of our extravagant tree._

"_Oh, Da!" I screamed, "I wanna name her, can I? I wanna name her…Shellybean!" _

_Daddy ran in after me and scooped me up, sitting me on the Shellybean the Pony's back and kissing the top of my head, "You can name her whatever you like, Pansy. Shellybean sounds lovely."_

Then he told me he'd take me out after breakfast to ride the pony in the yard. That's my first memory of my parents. Well, of my father, really. My second memory is of my mother specifically, also on that same Christmas morning.

_Shortly after discovering Shellybean, my father took me into the kitchen and sat me down on the counter, telling me that as it was Christmas, so the house-elves could make me absolutely anything my heart desired to eat. _

"_SHELLYBEANS AND PANCAKES!" I screamed, "SHELLYBEANS AND PANCAKES!" (I couldn't pronounce 'jellybeans' when I was young)._

_My father shushed me gently, telling me that mother was still sleeping and therefore I must be quiet, but it was too late. I still recall hearing the footsteps pounding down the stairs, then coming towards the kitchen. I didn't realize at the time, but something in my stomach told me to run or hide or something, because even then, I knew I should not cross my mother. _

_She walked into the kitchen, a hint of fury in her eyes. Still in her pajamas, she walked towards me, stopping when my father stepped between us._

"_Aldridge, move. The screaming thing awoke me as you led her to that filthy horse, no doubt, and then yelled yet again as you brought her in here, and I intend to ensure she shall not do so again," she sounded so innocent – not a hint of what was to come lurking in her eyes._

_Thing. That's all I ever was to my mother: just some 'thing' she had to deal with that was forced unwillingly upon her._

"_Nicolette, she's just a child. It's Christmas. Surely you can understand."_

"_I assure you I intend to do nothing harmful to her. She's my baby girl. I just need to talk with her."_

_My father stepped aside and allowed her to walk to me. I don't think I will ever forgive him for doing so. Gripping my upper arm, she jerked me down off of the counter and got right up to my face._

"_Listen here you little brat. When I am sleeping, you are to be quiet. You are to keep your squeaky little pug-face shut, do you understand?"_

_All I could do was nod._

_Using her free hand, she smacked at my cheek before shoving me roughly towards the door, "When I address you, you say 'Yes, Mother' you little snot! Now go to your room!"_

_I looked to my father, lip trembling. She screamed at me that my father wouldn't help me, as he was not permitted to do so. I scrambled up off the floor and ran upstairs to my room, closing the door behind me and hiding under my bed as I cried. Listening to them argue downstairs._

That would also be the first time I remember being physically hurt by one of my parents. From there, though, the memories seem to get worse. It's typical, I suppose, that my very first memory would be a good one, followed by nothing but bad ones or just-okay ones. Typical of me, at least. I could explain my most vivid memories in pages upon pages, but I'll give you a chronicled list and small summaries instead.


	2. Chapter 2  The Childhood

**Age 3**

Christmas morning with Daddy

Mum's Christmas gift of a metal spatula across the back

Meeting Draco Malfoy – _Mum and Dad told me that I was to meet a very important family and their only son, Draco. It was very important that I was kind to him, they said. Daddy said maybe one day he would marry me if I were to treat him right, to which Mother replied, "Don't be silly and fill the little dog's head with unattainable dreams. The Malfoys would never allow their prestigious child to marry this curse that we were given." Upon actually meeting Draco, he pushed me into a mud puddle and laughed at me as I began to tear up. When arriving back home afterward, I was thrown into my room and Mother hit me across the face for dirtying my brand new dress. Daddy just stood and watched, not even attempting to intervene. _

**Age 4**

I had the audacity to ask why I was named 'Pansy.' My mother's response: _Pansy is a stupid name for a stupid child. Only Pansies and sissies are named as such and since I was cursed with you as a child, it seemed fitting. Now leave me be before I set the house-elves on you for more lessons, you little disgrace._

Draco became ill for two weeks and I had to stay away from him. My friend and my relief from the torture of my parents were taken away from me. I spent the weeks in my room, playing with my dolls.

I began ballet, tap and jazz lessons that I continued with until I was eleven.

**Age 6**

I was whipped soundly with a damp towel for running wet through the foyer after it began to rain when I was playing in the yard.

My mum locked me in the closet for half the day because I dared to eat a lollipop before lunch was served. I didn't eat lunch that day and just cried in the closet until Father came home and snuck me out of the house for a special dinner with just him. He used to do that, sometimes. Take me out of the house with just him to try and make up for my mother's awful deeds.

**Age 7**

I was running through the house with Draco on our way upstairs to my room to play with some of my toys. Upon rounding a corner in the foyer, I accidentally knocked our antique crystal vase to the floor, shattering it to pieces. When the crash's echo reached my mother's ears upstairs, she rushed down to see what the cause of the noise was. I was already tearing up and Draco was trying to help me hide the shatters, but the effort was fruitless. Mother eyed the vase and asked that Draco step out of the foyer for a moment while she spoke with me. He nodded and stepped out. The moment he did so, she picked up a large shard of crystal and lifted my shirt up, exposing my back. Taking the crystal shard, she sliced across my back, whipping me around and backhanding me across the cheek for crying. It wasn't until the next day when Narcissa Malfoy arrived to take me to her Manor that I found out Draco had seen the ordeal with my mother. Mrs. Malfoy kept me in her possession for three weeks before being forced to give me back after my mother threatened her with contacting the Minister of Magic for kidnap.

I continued my dance lessons and also took up singing lessons, Spanish lessons and the harp to occupy my time and keep me away from Mother as much as possible.

**Age 10**

My father took mother and me out for my tenth birthday. It was a real treat. We went to Diagon Alley and he let me pick out a brand new dress and matching bracelet. I was so excited, and I just kept thinking about how the ensemble made me look like a real, true princess. I thought I would be able to rule the world in that outfit. In the excitement of my birthday and the trip, I forgot to curtsy and thank my father right away for my gifts. Instead, I jumped up and down and said, "Oh, Daddy! I am going to look like a real, true princess – the fairest of the land!" My father smiled and agreed, walking me out of the store. Once outside, my mother turned to him, an evil glint in her eye, "Aldridge," she said, "the girl didn't thank you. Don't you think that deserves punishment, dearheart?" My father protested, saying that my excitement of looking like a true princess was thanks enough for him. My mother disagreed. Apparating us back home, she took me to the sitting room, lighting a fire in the fireplace, "Pansy, you ugly thing, who would want _you_ to be their princess? Nobody, dear and I think it high time you learned that lesson." She yanked the beautiful emerald green gown out of my hands and threw it in the fire, laughing when I began to cry, asking her please to just give it back, promising to thank my father – just please let me be a princess. She refused, making me watch my gifts burn then sent me to bed, telling me that I had ruined my own birthday and had nobody else to blame for it.

**Age 11**

I began Hogwarts and was kept away from my parents. September 1 was the best day of my life – well, one of them.

**Age 14**

I attempted to set our house-elf free over Christmas holiday. She was a great elf, but my mother had taken to throwing her against the wall when her tea was not hot enough. I pitied the poor dear and gave the elf a pair of my father's trousers. My mother found out and took me to the basement of our home. She sat me on a chair and tied me down to it using a spell. For three days, I was not given a speck of food and the only time I left the basement was to use the lavatory. Each time my father went down to the basement and passed me (which was quite frequent as he spent time working down there) he would hit me across the face because my mother said a strong hand was needed to teach the insolent slob of a child she was given. He listened and hit me so hard I could feel my teeth vibrating in my skull. The only reason I was taken out of the basement that third day was because I had to pack for Hogwarts. My mother didn't even bother to heal my bruises and told everyone that we went skiing for holiday and I had a bad fall. I went along with the story.

**Age 16**

My parents disowned me. I went back to their home to get my things. ...My mother sat me in a chair and magicked it so I couldn't get up. They stood in front of me in the yard and burned everything. They burned all of my dresses, all of my books, all of my papers, my two stuffed animals...then they took a photo album that I kept for /years/ filled with Draco and me, then burned all the pictures one by one in front of me, then Dad smacked me across the face twice for good measure. Then I was sent away and told never to return.


	3. Chapter 3  And So It Begins

So now you've listened to me ramble about how awful my parents are – Mum in particular – and you, too, are wondering why I was so stupid as to agree to this trip. That in itself brings on a whole new feeling I've dealt with: pity. I pitied my father, really. 'Round my seventeenth birthday, he began sending me letters. They contained apologies, things he wished he'd done differently for me growing up. He pleaded with me for forgiveness, telling me of everyday things that he saw or did that reminded him of me, made him miss me, want to hear of me. So, he began to write. Every day. I never told Draco of these letters, because I didn't want him telling me of how ridiculous these letters were or that they were full of lies. My father was begging and I pitied him because I'd never seen him beg for _anything_ in my entire life. I forgave him, too, but even then he would still write to me everyday asking that I forgive him and love him again. Even with everything that happened, I never stopped loving my daddy and I reassured him daily of this fact. About a month before Hogwarts got out for summer this year, father owled me.

"_Pansy, dear,"_ the letter said, _"Pansy, I've spoken with your mother these past few days. We are planning a vacation to our new summer home in America. It's on a little island called Hawaii just off the west coast of the country. It took a bit of work, but I've done it. I've convinced Nikki to let you come with us to the summer home for the ten days that we are there. Please, Pansy, please consider this. I know you don't like her, sweetheart, and I know she's hurt you beyond repair, but this means a lot to me that you consider, and I would be so overjoyed if you would say yes and come, dear. Please, Pansy, reply as soon as possible. –Your father."_

It took me two days to finally reply to his letter. I thought long and hard and left Draco out of the loop, knowing he would convince me not to do so. I agreed to go on the trip and sent my father a letter. In all honesty, I said yes for three reasons. One, I couldn't bear to tell him no after he pleaded in the letter. Two, something told me that there was still a chance that Draco could leave me and all security I had – emotional, financial and otherwise – would be gone, and I would have to go back to the Parkinsons if that were to happen. And three, I needed love that I could only get from them. Parental love. It was missing and I needed it, so I said yes, thinking I could get it in Hawaii. It was for quite selfish reasons that I went, but maybe that's why it was awful. Karma has come to get me. Draco was the first person to tell me that I was wrong. He said they would just do the same to me again. I disagreed, telling him that they were different and it would be better, I could get my parents back and my last name and everything would be perfect again. I should have listened to Draco. I should always listen to Draco, because he's always right.

So, this is where it truly begins. My story of what happened in Hawaii and the reason I now have trust issues, low confidence in my decision making, lack of faith that Draco actually loves me, lack of self-esteem and confidence, and a few weeks of therapy lined up to undo what has been done to me. Again.


	4. Chapter 4  Days 1 & 2

_**Day 1 – Saturday**_

Today is the day. The day I leave Europe and travel what feels like half-way around the world to Hawaii in America. I am exceptionally excited, as I have never even left Europe in my seventeen years of existence. Daddy picked me up from Hogwarts last night, greeting me with a tight hug. I smiled and hugged him just as tight, allowing myself to be enveloped in his peppermint-and-scotch-scented warmth.

"Pansybeth. Oh, how I've missed you."

That's when I knew all was going to be well on this trip. It had to be. He called me 'Pansybeth' and he only called me that when things were good. Everything was going to be perfect.

"I missed you, too, Daddy," I said as he took me from the castle and apparated us home once we got off Hogwarts grounds.

This morning, we got up bright and early, apparating to the coast and taking a portkey to a state in America called Maine. From there, we took another portkey and apparated to ten different stopping points before finally reaching the coast of another state called California. We took a third portkey, then and arrived at the summer home just a bit after dark. I was taken straight up to a room on the second floor of the house by my father. My mother would be meeting us the next morning, so I was to be well rested for Nicolette's arrival. I kissed my father's cheek goodnight and changed into pajamas. Walking over to the desk by the window, I took a muggle pen and paper and wrote Draco a note.

_Hey, Ace. We've made it to Hawaii. It's pretty hot here, and it's night, which means it's daytime where you are. I hope this owl finds you well. I already miss you so much, and it's not even been a full day. I love you, Draco. Always, Pansy xx_

After sending it off with the owl, I crawled into the queen-sized bed, staring at the ceiling. This place was weird. It was warm here and the air in the room felt damp. I looked at all the space next to me and sighed, wishing Draco had been allowed to come on this trip with me. I took a spare pillow and set it next to me as if it were a person and turned over, my back facing it. Taking a deep breath I muttered, "Night, Ace. Love you." and closed my eyes, falling asleep immediately.

_**Day 2 **_

I woke up this morning to the smell of bacon and pancakes snaking its way under my door. Smiling, I got up and padded over to the door, poking my head out into the hallway, "Something smells lovely!"

I heard my father rummaging through drawers, "Come on down, Pansy! Breakfast is almost ready!"

I closed my door and went over to the vanity in the corner, brushing through my hair, and using a beauty spell to make my waist-length, dark hair straight and smooth as silk. With the wave of my wand, I made up the bed and went to the closet, selecting a simple silver dress and matching shoes. Pulling the dress on and slipping on the flats, I grabbed my emerald bracelet and clasped it, rushing down the stairs. Pausing for a moment to straighten myself, I took a deep breath, and then walked into the kitchen. The sight before me was quite surprising. There stood my father in an apron, spatula in one hand and a plate of pancakes in the other, "Pansy! Good morning, dear. How did you sleep?"

"Quite well, thank you. How about yourself?"

"Exceptionally! Now, I hope you haven't outgrown shellybeans and pancakes," he said, winking.

I clapped and giggled, "Of course not. I eat – well ate – so many a while back that they made me sick. Draco won't let me eat them anymore, but I sneak them from time to time."

My father laughed and took breakfast to the table, pulling out my chair as I sat down, "Sounds like you…and like him."

I nodded, pouring some juice and sipping at it, "Yes, well. I guess it just goes to show that not much changes with time."

I took a bite of my pancake, smiling when I bit into a cinnamon jellybean. I was surprised that he remembered that I liked them _in_ my pancakes because then I didn't need syrup. For a bit of time, we ate in silence. I watched my father carefully, trying to memorize everything about him, extremely hopeful that I would get my parents back completely at the end of this trip.

"So, Pansy. Tell me, how is the young Malfoy these days."

I rolled my eyes, "Draco's fine. A bit put off that you and mother would not allow him to accompany us here, but other than that he's fine. He doesn't send his regards, if that is what you want to know. While I may have forgiven you, he still has not. Draco doesn't seem to forget much in the way of things and people that have hurt me."

Aldridge nodded and looked me in the eye, "I'm still sorry, Pansy. Extremely so and I am so glad you agreed to come on this trip with us."

"I know you're sorry. Please stop apologizing. I've forgiven you, Daddy. Just don't make me regret it."

Something about my final sentence made his facial expression a bit less happy, but before I could question him about it, a woman's voice came from the doorway.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this a touching father-daughter moment," the woman sneered.

I turned in my chair and stood immediately as my eyes locked on the woman standing in the doorway. She was tall and pale, her dark hair cut in a severe line at her chin, emerald green eyes boring into my face.

"Pansy. You look…well enough," my mother spat out, dislike plain in her voice.

"Nikki!" I replied with as much fake sweetness as I could muster, "You look just as _bitchy_ as ever!"

I walked over to the witch and kissed her cheek, as is customary among pureblood families. She kissed my cheek as well, her hands on my shoulders, fingertips digging into my skin. She then pushed me back with a slight roughness, mouth in a set line.

"Turn around, Pansy, and let your mother see how you've been doing for yourself since you've been alone, poor and out of a name."

I bit my tongue against the flow of insults and snide remarks that popped into my head and nodded, "Yes, ma'am," as I spun around slowly for my evaluation.

"Tut, tut. You've put on weight, and quite a bit of it. It most definitely shows – especially on your stomach and your thighs. It makes your small boobs look even smaller. Your teeth aren't as white and your hair is too long for your face. It makes you look dead. Dead and fat and –" she snatched up my hands up in hers, "Ah, just as I suspected. Still biting those nails. Filthy habit. Oh, my what on earth is this?"

She tapped the ring on my left hand, eyes narrowing.

"Promise ring," I choked out. Only five minutes in her presence and I was feeling two inches tall and fatter than a house.

She cocked an eyebrow and snorted, "From who?"

"The young Malfoy," my father spoke up, "I'm sure you guessed as much, Nicolette."

"Well I'll be. He's still putting up with you and stringing you along, is he? No, don't answer that. You are to go upstairs and change into jogging clothes. We must do something about your weight right away, Pudgy Pansy."

Pinching non-existent fat on my flat stomach, she pushed me out of the kitchen and marched me upstairs like a five year old. She stood in my room, inspecting my body as I changed, then dragged me downstairs, past my father and out through the back door to the beach's edge. Reaching the edge of the water, Mother told me that I was to run around the small island we were staying on. I told her I most certainly would not and we argued for fifteen minutes before she petrified me. Walking over to my frozen body, she took the ring off of my finger. Draco and I were broken up – it shouldn't matter that she removed it, but it did. Holding the ring between her thumb and forefinger, she looked at me through it.

"Promise ring?" she inquired in my direction as she unfroze me, "Here's a promise: If you do not run around the perimeter of this island as I say, I can _promise_ you'll never see this ring again. Another promise: You're _fat_. Do you honestly think a _Malfoy_ would stay with a fat girl? No. So run. Go."

So, I ran. I ran the perimeter of the island just over three times, each time with her riding on her broom before me, making her voice sound like Draco's, yelling at me to run if I wanted him to love me. I believed what she told me about my weight. So I ran until, on my fourth way around, I collapsed from exhaustion.

When I came to, I was laying on a couch in the den of the summer home. Daddy was sitting across from me, just watching me. Mother was pacing the room, and for once I thought she was worried about me. Surprised, I stretched, "W-what happened?"

"You collapsed, Pansy, while running around the island. You were a quarter of the way through your fourth round," my father replied, a tone of extreme calmness in his voice.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Nicolette whipped around to face me, "You are weak and I am disappointed to say that you are my child."

She yanked me roughly up from the couch and examined me, shoving me back down on the couch with force muttering, "What a disgrace."

"Weak? Mum, I ran the island three and a quarter times and collapsed! How is that weak?"

"No child of mine would have collapsed. Let's go."

I looked at my father, then back to my mother, confused, "Where are we going?"

"Just come, child."

I got up and slowly made my way after my mother. She led me up three flights of stairs and down a long, narrow hallway. At the end of the hall was a bathroom and she beckoned me in, closing the door behind us. She handed back my promise ring and suddenly, became very sweet.

"Pansy, dear, I wish to do your make up. May I?"

I narrowed my eyes, "What choice have I? Isn't that why you've locked me in here alone with you – I can't refuse."

A smirk danced on her face, "Exactly. Now, put your hair up in a ponytail and sit on the stool."

I made my way over to the mirror and pulled my hair up in a neat ponytail. Once satisfied, I sat on the stool. Mum stood behind me playing with my hair for a moment, talking about how shiny it was, how smooth it felt – as if silk were growing from my head. She tugged lightly on my ponytail a few times, then stood up, "It's a pity you're so ugly and have nothing to make anyone stay around you, you little dog-faced pug-rat. On second thought, you can't be helped, so let us go eat some lunch, shall we?"

"Oh sure," I responded, extremely hurt, figuring her twenty seconds of niceness ran out in playing with my hair.

"Oh, and Pansy, darling?"

"Yes, Mum?"

My mother walked over to the doorway of the bathroom and opened the door, stepping out, "Dear, please let your hair down for lunch. Be downstairs in five minutes."

She walked out of the bathroom and I turned back to the small mirror. Reaching back to take my ponytail out, my heart stopped. Something on the floor caught my eye. Biting my lip, I turned and stared at the darkish bundle on the floor. Realization flooded through me as I grasped at my hair. It was gone. My ponytail was gone. I was a pug-faced, shorthaired, fat girl, and the mirror reflected it to me. I realized after a moment of shock that the tugging was her silently cutting it with the scissors that lay on the shelf. Tears in my eyes, I screamed a bloodcurdling scream as I pulled what little hair I had out of the hair tie. It fell just below my chin in a severe cut.

Eyes misty, I ran to my room, searching for my wand to perform a spell to grow my hair back. Opening the drawer I placed it in before our run, I found my wand in pieces with a note that said, _Silly girl. As if I would be so stupid as to allow you to get your hair back. –N.P._

When my father came up to tell me lunch was ready, I was sitting on the floor in tears. I told him I wasn't hungry and cried until I could cry no longer. It was dusk by then and I refused dinner, going straight to shower. Afterward, I locked my bedroom door and sent off an owl to Draco.

_Ace, I hope things are going well with you. Things here are marvelous! Mum took me 'round the island and then we had makeovers. Dad made me pancakes with jellybeans for breakfast. I miss you so much. I love you. Always yours, Panda_

After sending out the owl, I lay in bed, thinking that maybe – just maybe – Draco could end up being right about my parents. I stared at the ceiling until finally sleep came, welcoming me in its peaceful, dark and quiet arms.

_**Day 3**_

Mum took me on more rounds of running around the island's perimeter. When I was not fast enough, she'd punch me in the chest with a resounding, "DO IT AGAIN!" and set me off running again. I was allowed twenty minute breaks to hydrate, but I was in the running-punching-hydrating routine from nine in the morning until six in the evening. When she allowed me to finish running, I ate a bit of dinner, but I had so much water in me that I felt sloshy an unable to eat. I showered and went to bed, crying because I was so sore from running and being punched; because I missed Draco and he wasn't there to hold me and tell me that it would be okay. I fell asleep feeling as if nothing would be okay, because in truth, how could it be?


	5. Chapter 5  Days 4, 5, & 6

_**Day 4**_

Not much to report today. My parents were gone when I woke up. I did my run around the island that my mother said I must do every day that we are in Hawaii. I went to the beach and tanned for a time, hoping bronzing of my skin would hide my dark eye circles. I didn't tan much and I think the eye circles are only more pronounced.

I tried to make food today the way muggles do. I just made a sandwich of peanut butter and jelly for lunch. For dinner I attempted a boxed Macaroni and Cheese. It turned to disaster, so I just made myself another sandwich. I didn't bother to write Draco today as he hasn't been writing back to me.

When I laid down for bed, my parents still were not back to the house. Maybe they fell off the face of the planet. In Nikki's case especially, I would not mind one little bit.

_**Day 5**_

The whole trip was a ruse. My parents never wanted to make up with me. What they wanted was to break me further and take anything and everything that they could away from me. How did I find out? Eavesdropping. Which, I hate when other people do it to me, but when I am doing the eavesdropping; I don't mind it so much.

When I walked down the stairs to breakfast, I saw that the French doors to the dining room were closed. Just behind those doors, I heard lowered voices talking.

"…but Nikki, sweetie, shouldn't we _try_ and fix it?"

Fix what?

"No, Aldridge. You know the plan. We get the little sneak to give us as much inside information as she can. Then we take them down and her as well. We agreed that we would bring her out here under the pretences that we would make up, Aldridge, yes, but you know as well as I do that the object of the trip was to bring the Malfoys down. When we're sitting on top of the pureblood food chain, she'll be removed from their ranks as well for treason. We'll have what we want and she'll have nothing."

There was a long pause. Just as I placed a hand on the knob, my father spoke up.

"Nic, why are you doing this? Pansy is a teenager. She knows nothing of what you are looking for, she has zero power in any way, and she's more loyal to them than she is to us – you in particular, so why are you doing this to her?"

"WE DISOWNED HER! SHE IS SUPPOSED TO BE A NOBODY! YET SOMEHOW, SHE IS A SOMEBODY! I WANTED HER IN HER PLACE AND INSTEAD THE DOG-FACED BRAT IS SITTING HAPPILY ATOP HER LITTLE PEDESTAL AND MAKING FOOLS OF US!"

"She is not doing anything to us, and you know that. She's becoming a person – her own person. She causes us no harm and she is of absolutely no matter to us. You want to make up with her? Fine. You want her out of our lives? Fine. Keep her out, but stop doing this to her," my father spoke very calmly.

"I am doing nothing to her. I am simply–"

"Simply what, Nicolette? Simply _what?_ Ruining her adult life just like you did her childhood? Simply trying to take away any chance she has at being a successful woman in the world? Simply beating her metaphorically rather than physically? You're doing a lot to her, Nic, and honestly I am quite tired of your bullshit with her. She's a kid – our kid. I sat by silently, and continue to sit by silently and let you ruin her. I even help you ruin her, but there comes a time where the battle is lost. The battle is lost, Nikki. Let it go."

Trust me when I say I was not expecting to hear _that_ come out of my dad's mouth.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I did not ruin her childhood and I have not ruined her. I am simply trying to put her in her place," I could practically hear her eyes rolling and her hands grip the chair tighter.

"She's our daughter. Her place is with us," my whispered.

"No, it's not. She's not worthy and she has not proven herself good enough to be one of us."

Chair scraped against hardwood floor and heavy steps moved across the room. When the steps stopped, my father spoke again.

"So what's the plan, Nikki? What do _you_ want to do to her? How do _you_ plan on bringing about the failure of your own child and the people she cares about most? Tell me."

"It's simple. We trick her into chit-chat about that family she loves and obsesses over and get her to say anything and everything she knows about how they work, their funds…basically how they operate and where their secrets are hidden. We use that information with an outsider, who works their way into their good ranks, then take them down and blame that little miscreant we call our child, saying that was her plan all along. They'll ditch the little pug-face, then not only will she not be one of us, but she won't be anybody. Mission accomplished."

Okay, first, what is with my mother and using the word 'simple,' I mean, really. Second, I know _nothing _of the inner workings of the Malfoy family. What on Earth would they tell me? Honestly, if I had any doubt that my mother was a blundering moron, I now had surefire proof that she was stupider than Longbottom's parents in their current, mush-for-brains state.

"I really don't think she knows anything. Even if she did, she probably wouldn't tell you and I feel like –"

"That's your problem. You feel. Stop feeling! Stop playing Happy Families, and help me ruin that bitch and the Malfoys – it's time that a new family got on top for once."

"I don't know if I can do that, Nic. You may have always seen her as an inconvenience, but I care for her."

"She is an inconvenience. She always has been!"

"I think we're done here."

I waited a few seconds, tip-toeing up the stairs. When I was about halfway up, I began to stomp back down as if I had only just woken. Reaching the foot of the stairs again, I opened the door.

"Morning. I apologize for sleeping so late," I said as I walked coolly to the table and sat down, helping myself to tea.

"It's no bother at all, Pansy. Your mother and I were just talking about you, actually. I'd like to take you out today – just you and I – if that is alright with you."

I sipped my tea for a few moments and pretended to be thinking this over at length. Slowly, I nodded.

"Sure. I'd like that," smiling slightly I bit into a cinnamon roll.

"Meet me on the front porch around noon and we'll escape this stuffy house for a while," my father said as he left me alone with the bitch in the dining room.

Making my voice overly sweet, I turned to my mother, batting my eyelashes, "Sleep well, Mummy?"

"Well enough."

"You don't much look it. Rather, you look as though someone's punched both of your eyes for lack of sleep."

Silence.

"You and Daddy weren't here yesterday."

"Well, aren't you just so observant? No, we weren't here yesterday. I couldn't stand to see your face, and I can't go anywhere without your father as he is primary fund holder."

"Ah, I see. You needed your little pocketbook, did you? Daddy's nothing but a dollar sign to you, isn't he?"

Locking her jaw, she sipped her tea. She didn't speak for the duration of breakfast. Smirking in satisfaction, I sat in equal silence, reveling in my success at getting under her skin.

At noon I met my father on the porch. He said that he'd planned a boat ride around the island so we could spend some time together. After getting into the boat, he paddled a few miles out. Anchoring the boat, he opened a little box at his end of the boat and pulled out a sandwich for each of us. Handing me my sandwich, he took a bite of his own, smiling. I waited a moment, unwrapped my own and took a bite, "It's really nice out here. I'm glad you asked me to come."

My father just nodded, eating more of his sandwich, "Mm. Yes, me, too. Eat up. I've planned something special."

I took a few more bites, slowly chewing and watching the water glitter. After about four bites, I started to feel a bit funny. My vision blurred slightly and I started to feel dizzy. When I tried to tell my father how I was feeling, I was unable to talk. Smiling still, he reached forward and took one of my hands.

"Feeling a bit funny?" he asked in what was a cheery voice for my father. I just nodded. He moved in, dangerously close and whispered menacingly, "That's what you get for eavesdropping, you little brat. You think your mother and I couldn't hear you stomp down the stairs, and then listen through the door? We aren't stupid. You may have heard your mother's plan, but I agree with it and intend to help her plan come to fruition. Try to stop it all you like, but you _will_ tell us what you know and you _will_ cooperate, understand?"

Slightly terrified by his tone, I nodded. What in the world was going on here? Why did my parents – ugh.

Backing away, my father pushed me so I was lying down and petrified me, "Noon. The sun's out. Enjoy your day in the boat. Come find us when the spell wears off, will you?" then he apparated out of the boat and I was left to bake in the sun.

Embarrassed that I fell for my father's kind words that I heard while eavesdropping, I laid in the boat feeling stupid and naive, wondering where I went wrong in trying to be cared for by them.

It was there in the boat that I realize I have to do as they wish. Any information that they were looking for, I had to give to them. Then again, I wouldn't have to tell them full truths, just enough to where they think they are getting what they want.

The spell ended up wearing off after about four hours. Wincing slightly as I sat up, I looked at my arms. Sure enough, they were burnt like lobsters. It hurt to move, but I made myself stand up and apparate back to the summer home.

Walking slightly funny from stiffness and sunburn, I marched up the porch stairs and into the sitting room where my parents were having tea.

"I'll do it."

Both of them looked up at me in the same moment, my father's forehead creasing and one of my mother's eyebrows raising.

"Do what, Miss Renaldi?" inquired my mother, emphasizing my last name.

"It's Parkinson," I said, "and I will tell you anything and everything you need to know about the Malfoy family and how they work. All the information I know is yours."

Staring at me for a moment, Mother cleared her throat, "Excuse me, but when did you decide Parkinson was your last name again?"

"When I realized that I am the only one here worthy of a pureblood last name, and Renaldi is nothing but a name Draco chose to help give you what you want: differentiation from me. Rather than differentiate myself with a fake name that has no meaning and holds no truth, I am going to keep my last name and differentiate myself by actions. Starting with cooperating – like a good girl – and telling you everything you want to know, as long as I know the answers."

I bit my lip as they thought this through. Sharing a silent exchange they nodded.

"Glad you have adjusted your priorities, Pansy. I mean, face it, dear," my father began, "your loyalties will always lie with this family, disowned or not. You are nothing but a nuisance to the Malfoy family, as you follow their son around like a lost puppy looking for affection. The truth is, Pansy, once you get out of Hogwarts, chances are he will get rid of you just as quickly as Narcissa spends galleons."

I tried to look indifferent and nod, but the hurt from his words must have showing on my face.

"You know that's the truth, don't you?"

I bit my lip. Sure, we had that secret from Christmas break, but what did that mean? It was a secret and secrets are kept for a reason: so others don't know. Is that why he was so adamant about keeping it to ourselves…? My father – though he did not know of the circumstances – made a point to an extent.

I nodded and whispered, "Yes, I do."

"Good," my mother said, "Now that we have this settled and your allegiance to us has been made clear, tell us what you know of the Malfoy's financial standing."

"They haven't much. They keep taking out loans from Gringott's. They use their power and Ministry influence to keep pulling the loans."

"What influence have they?"

"Fudge and Mister Malfoy formed a close bond back in fourth year at the Quidditch Cup. They haven't any true influence – it's all just a load of hot air, but the manner in which they blow the hot air makes it believable."

Lies and half-truths. The Malfoys taking out loans was as likely as Neville Longbottom aiding in the defeat of You-Know-Who.

"They are close to Fudge, so they must not support You-Know-Who?"

"I know of no such matters. Draco and I do not take to sitting around discussing whether or not we and our family support He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, though being that they are purebloods, I assume that they do support him, yes."

My mother got close to my face and stared into my eyes, examining them. I silently crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping with all the might I had that she would not see through the lie. She nodded.

"How do they maintain their position as one of the most esteemed pureblooded families?" my father asked.

"Easy. Fear, intimidation and physical force."

"Physical force?"

"Yes, sir. They see no shame in hitting others – wives and girlfriends in particular," I stated bitterly, "It's the only way they seem to gain and maintain power and control."

Truth and a low-blow to Draco, even though he wasn't here.

"How does fear and intimidation work into this?"

Rowling, my parents were morons. The stupider they were, though, the more likely my half-lies would be believed, so I chalked that up as a good thing.

"Easy. You get hit once and you start to stay on your toes. You begin to act as though it doesn't bother you, but it does. When they start to get angry, you worry and begin to expect the hits to come. It's frightening and they can sense that, using your own fear and their hands to intimidate you into submission."

Honestly, that was probably more truth than anything. It's the reason Draco still frightened me any time we fought. I always waited for his hand to strike me.

My father seemed to think this over.

"You said 'girlfriends' in addition to wives."

"Yes, sir. I did."

"I am assuming from that statement that Draco has hit you before."

I nodded, "Yes, he has."

Smirking he looked at my mother and nodded slightly. Looking from him to her, my brow furrowed in confusion. Nikki began to walk towards me.

"When Draco hit you, how did he do it?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

She walked up to me, a small smile forming on her face.

"What I mean is, was it open-handed, like this," she smacked me across the face, "or was it close-fisted, like this?" my father walked over and punched me right in the jaw.

Moving my jaw around and rubbing my cheek, I looked down slightly, "The first one."

"Open-handed. Good man – he's got to keep a bitch like you in line somehow, doesn't he?" my mother sneered.

I swallowed and glared at her as she smacked me again, smiling. I let her get it out of her system before looking up at her, "Yes, he does."

"Good. If we can't do it, at least someone is taking care of the task of making you listen. Now tell us, how much money do the Malfoys have, Pansy?"

Interrogation lasted a while, going as far as to inquire to the colour of Narcissa's delicates and whether or not Lucius shampoos twice when he showers. What these had to do with anything, I have no idea, but I answered honestly, saying that I had no idea as to the colour of Mrs. Malfoy's bras and I could care less whether her husband shampooed twice to get his 'lucious and silky locks.' My mum also took the liberty of smacking me, shoving me or stomping on my foot when I did not answer their questions fast enough or sufficiently enough. Exhausted and bruised, I collapsed into bed, rubbing my forehead and various sore spots. Around the second hour of questioning I developed an unrelenting migraine and the muggle pills I take for headaches were of no help at all; mum's slaps did nothing to help the case, either. I'd sent a letter to Draco after the questioning, but I wouldn't allow him to come get me. There would be a charade put up upon returning to Hogwarts and I had to be sure that it was airtight and perfect. My head throbbed until I fell asleep, drifting into nightmares of being crucio-ed.

_**Day 6**_

More running took place today. My bruises are more apparent this morning than they were last night and my feet hurt from being stomped. I look like I've been beaten all over – probably because I have been. I didn't feel like writing to or talking to Draco in any way, shape or form today. I just felt alone all day – like I was in isolation. Truth is, I am in isolation. I willingly came here, and what did it get me? Running.

I was also attacked by bees today. Midway around the island, there was a fallen bee's nest. Not realizing what it was, I ran right over it. It wasn't until I was stung twice on the back and three times on my arms that I realized what it was. Not having a wand, I was left to run as fast as I could to escape the stinger-clad beasts. All the while, my mother sat watching, laughing her arse off as I yelped each time I got stung. Thankfully, when I returned to the house, Father made sure to remove all of the stingers and put medicine on them. The stings went down within the hour, but it also looked as though I have been infected with Dragon Pox. I ate a dinner of oatmeal and went to bed feeling sick from heat, running and probably my mother's cooking – even if it was just oatmeal.


	6. Chapter 6  Days 7, 8, & 9

_**Days 7, 8, and 9**_

To say that these days of vacation were good days would be an understatement. I met my grandparents on my father's side for the first time in my life.

I was sitting at the table eating the five strawberries my mother allowed me to eat for breakfast. (_"Your waistline will thank me later, Pansy Elizabeth._") I still had my bruises and sting marks all over my body, but I did my best to act as though I didn't know how ugly I looked, even with beauty charms on myself. It's not like Draco was here to be impressed anyways, so who cared if I were uglier than usual?

We heard a knock on the door and I looked from my mother to my father, as they both pretended not to hear the rapping.

"We haven't any elves here. Someone needs to get the door."

My mother looked as if she smelled something foul and shook her head, "I am not a servant. I do not answer doors."

My father rolled his eyes, "Nicolette, I will not be answering doors. That is an elf's work. When there are no elves, it is a woman's work."

Nicolette's eyes narrowed, "Are you insinuating that a woman is good for nothing more tha–"

"Oh my _Rowling_, you two! I'll get it!"

I pushed back roughly from the table, abandoning my last three strawberries, muttering under my breath. Some things never change. They act as though they are so almighty that they cannot open doors. Ridiculous. As I walked to the door, I straightened my hair, then grasped the brass knob and twisted, pulling the door open.

Two elderly individuals stood before me in the bright Hawaiian sun. The first was a man, rather tall in stature. He had short, wispy hair the precise colour of my own as well as eyes that matched mine. His pale skin sagged slightly on his face, and his worn hands gripped a cane. Standing next to him was a woman about my height. Her hazel eyes looked at me questioningly under the puff of white that was her hair. Her skin, too, sagged slightly.

"May I help you?" I asked politely as I took in the sight before me.

"I am Azmire Parkinson and this is my wife, Cecilia. We're here to see Aldridge and Nicolette Parkinson, as well as their child, Pansy," the man said. His voice was deep and gravelly, yet cheery.

I stepped aside from the door and opened it wider, "Oh, do come in."

I smiled slightly as they stepped through. Closing the door after them, I turned to face them, extending a hand, "You said you were here to see Pansy? I'm Pansy."

Taking my outstretched hand, Azmire's face lit up in a grin, "Pansy! Oh my –we're your grandparents."

He pulled me into a hug and then passed me off to Cecilia. "M-my grandparents? I – my grandparents are dead. All four of them according to my mother…"

Just then, Dad and Mum walked into the foyer. Dad came over and hugged me as my mother brushed my hair out of my face, "Ah. I see you have found your lovely surprise, Pansy. These are your father's parents, your grandparents. Come. Let us go into the sitting room and visit, shall we?"

Of course they were going to put on a charade of a perfect family.

I followed them to the sitting room where tea was waiting. For hours we sat and talked. I learned a great deal about my grandparents and my father. They told me of their lives and I told them of mine. I told them of the job I worked at the ice cream shop, of my grades in school, of my relationships and all of my friends. At one point, an argument broke out because Grandmum and Grandfather were upset that I was told they were dead and that they were told I wished not to see them.

Once things calmed, they stayed for dinner and after dessert, Grandmother Cecilia agreed that they would stay with us for a few days.

Their second day of visiting was nothing special. We had a beach day as a family and picnicked, went boating and played a muggle game called Volleyball. We talked more and I learned more of their lives and they learned more of mine.

On their third and final day with us, Grandmother Cecilia asked that I accompany her on a walk along the beach. Once we reached the beach, we walked in silence for a distance until we were out of earshot and sight of the house. Reaching a good distance, Grandmother stopped walking and turned me to look at her. Pushing my chopped off, chin-length hair behind one of my ears, she stroked my cheek with her thumb.

"You are the spitting image of that venomous woman my son married, except you've his eyes and hair colour."

I grimaced, "I'm different than her. I am not my mother."

"You misunderstand me. I mean to say that you are alike in looks, though you've a kinder disposition that she. I take it you realize you've done better for yourself she has?"

"I'm not quite sure I understand what you're asking."

"Pansy, you've been disowned. You were stripped of your name and, in effect, all social standing that you ever had. Pureblood or no, your status was stolen from you. Yet somehow, you've managed to stay in one piece, hold on to a boy of _extremely _high status in society, you told us you _worked_ and you appear better for it. When your father wrote us about this trip and what he wanted to reconcile…we expected to meet some scraggly child who looked as though she would belong on the streets. You were not the expectation at all."

I gnawed on my lower lip, examining her face for a moment, "Thank you. I suppose I have done well for myself in spite of things, but I don't know that I have done _better_ for myself than she has."

Cecilia took my hands in hers, "My dear. I have watched you talk about Draco for three days. Your face lights up and your cheeks turn pink. Your eyes glitter like no other, and you can hear in your voice how much you love that boy. Icky Nikki in there _never_ looked like that when she spoke of your father, or even thought of him for that matter. When you speak of Draco, hearts appear in your eyes. When she spoke of your father, dollar signs appeared in her eyes. The way you speak, he loves you just as much, and I wouldn't be surprised to find you two to be together for a long time, Pansy. You have love, while Bitchy Nikki has money. You also have friends, quite a good deal of them, in fact, and their names aren't Mr. Galleon, Mrs. Sickle and Ms. Knut. If that's not doing better for you than she has for her, I don't know what is."

I thought this over for a few moments, evaluating her words and my situation. I nodded.

"I – well, yes. I have done better for myself than she has. Much better than she could ever do for me, Grandmother."

She seemed sincere, but I didn't truly believe her words. I didn't do better for myself in anyway – I was still the same pug-faced rat that my parents had to deal with, except now I was not theirs legally.

She held me at arm's length and looked me in the eye, "Grandma Cecilia – or Grandma Cee, please. Seventeen years of not having a granddaughter, and I finally get her. I would like her to call me 'grandma.' I would also like to keep in touch with her, if she would allow me to."

"I would love to keep in touch with you and Grandfather."

Grandma Cecilia smiled at me, "Good. I'm proud of you, Pansy and you are worth more than that bitch allows you to think, Pansy. I love you, dear girl, and that should say something."

My heart stopped momentarily. She was the first family member who told me they loved me. Even my own parents never said it to me that I can remember. I smiled slightly – how could she love me after such a short time with me? There was some sort of trickery up – there had to be. If my parents didn't love me after seventeen years, how could this woman love me after three days?

"I will definitely keep that in mind."

We walked back to the house, arm-in-arm. The whole way back to the house, she interrogated me about Draco. How old he was, did he still look like his father, did he treat me right, what I loved about him, and what did I disliked about him. The interrogation lasted right up to the door where we were cut off my by mother's glare.

"Pansy, your – er, they must leave now. Say good-bye and go to the sitting room."

I nodded and kissed my grandmother's cheek.

"Good-bye, Grandmother. It was wonderful meeting you."

My grandfather stepped forward and kissed my forehead, "I'm so glad we met, Pansy. You're a wonderful child, and I am glad to call you my granddaughter."

Mother then escorted the two elderly folk through the house and upstairs to their portkey. I went to the sitting room and took a seat next to my father who was nursing a large glass of firewhiskey.

"Daddy."

"Pansy, hey! How's it hanging, bitch?" he slurred before taking a gulp of alcohol.

Nicolette walked through the door and closed it, turning to face me, "You."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. What do you think you were doing, winning them over like that?"

"I think I was trying to get a chance at the family I was stripped of and getting a chance with people _worth_ having in relation to me!"

"People like them don't matter. People like them are the reason everything is soft and dandy and Potter has sympathizers. They may as well be blood-traitors the way they carry on with their lives, and yet you think _they_ are _worthy_ of your attention? Nobody is worthy of your attention, for you are nobody, Pansy Elizabeth," the vein in her temple was beginning to pop out of her skin slightly. This was it. I could feel it – this was the moment I waited for since I can remember. I was going to stand up to Nicolette Parkinson.

"Yes, I do. Let me guess, though, you think _you_ are worthy of my attention? You, your abusive hands and your drunken husband? Yeah, I think not."

"Why, you little slut! You shut your mouth right his instant! You have no right –"

"To talk to you this way? Oh, I think I do. I think I have earned that damn right. You sit here in your pressed satin dresses and your fake pearls with your diamond rings and necklaces, sipping a martini and judging the rest of the world! Come summer, I will live in a muggle flat with my hu-mble boyfriend wearing jeans and cotton t-shirts on weekends! My nail polish is chipped because I don't have the time to do them myself, the money to have someone else do it, and now I haven't the wand to do it either, as you've broken it! You've cut off all of my hair, cut off all of my funds, and cut me off from society. I had to get special permission from my headmaster in order to WORK ON WEEKENDS DURING THE SCHOOL YEAR AT AN ICE CREAM PARLOUR TO SAVE MONEY IN ORDER FOR SURVIVAL BECAUSE I REFUSE TO DEPEND ON DRACO FOR EVERYTHING! SO WHILE YOU SIT HERE IN ALL YOUR BITCHY GLORY, DEPENDING ON YOUR HUSBAND FOR YOUR MONEY AND SOCIAL STANDING AND PRETEND YOU'VE MADE A NAME FOR YOURSELF, I HAVE WORKED MY ARSE OFF, I HAVE SECURED SOMEONE WHO LOVES ME AND TAKES CARE OF ME AND I HAVE DONE IT OF MY OWN WILL AND FEELING, AND _NOT_ JUST BECAUSE HE HAS MONEY! I _HAVE MADE A NAME FOR MYSELF!_ FURTHERMORE, I HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU AND YOUR SNOODY BITCHING AND MOANING! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FAKE AND A PHONY. YOU ARE A LIAR, A MANIPULATOR AND I HOPE YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO YOURSELVES. YOU WONDER WHY THE MALFOYS ARE ON TOP? I'LL TELL YOU. IT'S BECAUSE THEY ARE AT LEAST DECENT ENOUGH PEOPLE TO GIVE JUST AS MUCH AS THEY TAKE, UNLIKE YOU AND DADDY, WHO ARE GREEDY SNOBS WHO TAKE, TAKE, TAKE, TAKE, TAKE! YOU LIE ABOUT YOURSELVES AND MAKE YOURSELVES OUT TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT! YOU, NICOLETTE PARKINSON, ARE A PIG-NOSED, TWO-FACED, BACKSTABBING, GREEDY BITCH WHO CARES ONLY FOR HERSELF AND NOBODY ELSE. SO DON'T TELL ME THAT _YOU_ OF ALL PEOPLE ARE DESERVING OF MY BLOODY ATTENTION AND DON'T YOU _DARE_ CALL ME A SLUT! YOU BEAT ME! YOU TOLD ME YOU DON'T LOVE ME AND NEVER WANTED ME! YOU DISWONED ME AND HOPED FOR MY FAILURE! I BELIEVE I CAN TALK TO YOU IN ANY WAY THAT I PLEASE! YOU DON'T DESERVE ANYTHING FROM ME, YOU FILTHY WENCH, MUCH LESS MY ATTENTION! THAT BEING SAID, I HAVE AN AMAZING BOYFRIEND HALFWAY AROUND THE WORLD WHO IS WAITING FOR ME TO GO HOME TO HIM, AND FRIENDS WHO ARE MISSING ME! INSTEAD OF BEING WITH THEM, I AM STUCK HERE WITH YOU TWO SORRY ASS BITCHES CONTROLLING ME. THIS ENDS NOW! WE'RE DONE! DON'T WRITE AND DON'T TRY TO FIND ME IN MUGGLE LONDON. WE ARE NOT FAMILY, AND I DO NOT WANT YOU IN MY LIFE. EVER. AGAIN."

I let out a huff of air to signal the end of my angry monologue. Strutting up to my mother, I smacked her once across the face.

"THAT IS FOR MY SHITTY CHIDHOOD!"

I smacked her again across the other side of her face.

"THAT IS FOR ALL THE TIMES YOU HIT ME AND MADE ME FEEL LIKE I AM WORTH NOTHING!" then I shoved her hard, "AND THAT IS FOR DISOWNING ME!"

The worst part of the words I spoke was that I didn't fully believe them. I hadn't secured Draco in any means – I had no way to hold him to me. I was just his for now, but for all I know, someone ten times smarter, prettier and funnier could come around and he'll just leave me. I hadn't made a name for myself, because I had no job anymore, since I quit when Draco told me I didn't need to work. Draco or no, I had zero social standing, and I believed what my mother said. I was a dog-faced, chubby girl with short hair and a pig's nose. I stood up for myself, but I did it out of survival instinct – not belief in myself or my words.

Turning sharply, I walked out of the room, through the front door and headed across the lawn. Head held high, I failed to notice a hole in my way. Mid-stride, my foot got caught in the hole and twisted just right, making me trip, fall, and sprain my ankle. I stood up, refusing to acknowledge the fact that all dignity in my departure was stripped away, I forced myself to walk – not limp – to the edge of the water and apparated to the hotel we stopped at before catching our flight from California.

Stepping into the hotel, I went to the front desk and reluctantly asked them for the cheapest room they had, handing over the necessary funds. After they showed me to my room, I asked if there were any way they could contact a doctor about my ankle.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Hopping over, I opened it to reveal a kind old man who said he was called to take a look at my ankle. Letting him in, I sat on the edge of my bed and allowed him to examine and wrap my ankle. He told me it was sprained and to stay off of it as much as I could. I agreed and was thankful when he left, only to return with crutches so I would not have to hop around.

After he left, I ventured out into the muggle world on my own. There was a small fruit stand a few streets down from the hotel and I bought a bit of fruit before returning to my hotel room. Twenty muggle dollars was all I had left, and I wasn't sure it would last me three more days. Getting in contact with Draco, he told me he would send me a new wand and some money so I could get clothes and food.

Feeling slightly better and still on a high from screaming at the bitch who was once my mother, I collapsed on top of the bed, not caring that other people had slept on it many times, and fell asleep, hoping Draco's package would be there come morning. It was, but I couldn't stand another day away from Draco and everyone, so I decided to go back to Hogwarts a day early and be back with them.


	7. Chapter 7  The End of it All

And there you have it. My sucky "family" trip. The only good that came from it was standing up to my mother, meeting my grandparents, and taking Parkinson back as my last name. Other than that, it was just the same. It was more beatings, more telling me how I'm unworthy of Draco's love, more making me feel like I am a worthless, fat bit of nothing. I went on a vacation from my sometimes happy life at Hogwarts to go to a miserable place for fun. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, but I should never have gone on that trip.

I bet you're thinking, _Wow. That was a terrible trip, but now she's home and she is with Draco and she's happy again_. **WRONG.**

There I am, sitting in the RoR, wrapped in Draco's arms and pouting over the turn of events with my parents when he turns himself so he is looking at me and takes my hand (oh, in case I didn't mention before, we were married over Christmas break).

"I uh, have something to tell you," he says.

I tightened my fingers around his and looked into his eyes, "What would that be?"

"Remember winter holiday?"

"Yes, of course."

"Yeah, we're not _really_ married. Legally. The ceremony and the vows were real - but legally, we're not married."

I took a deep breath, feeling my face get hot, "You better be lying to me."

"No, I'm sorry."

Sorry? What the bloody hell? Sorry doesn't cut it, you great moron! That's – ugh!

I slapped him across the face and pushed him away, "I hate you."

I hoped those three words would have some sort of impact, and I am assuming they did, for all he could say was "Pansy –"

After a few more words were exchanged, I told him to get out. I couldn't deal with him at that moment. He lied to me. We weren't married like I thought we were. Most people would say that it's not a big deal, but being married to him ensured that he was mine forever. He couldn't leave me and he would always be mine, something I needed. I need Draco for survival, for existence. I thought I had a hold on him. I thought I had him forever, but I was wrong. My parents were right. I had no hold on him. I never did, and when I thought I did, the whole thing was a lie.

Happy Welcome Home, Pansy! Your parents hate you and your husb—no, I'm sorry—your _boyfriend_ is a liar.

The moral of the story? No…the moral of my _life?_ Don't hope and don't try and make your life happier, because it will all end in disappointment.

Like I said at the start, I'm Pansy Elizabeth Marie Parkinson. Aren't you thanking Rowling right now that you are not and never will be me? It's okay if you are – I would be, too.

_Fin._


End file.
